Love Lost The End of Vegeta and Bulma?
by veggiesaga
Summary: This story takes place a few years after the end of GT, Vegeta is coming to realize that there's something wrong with his life. R&R, this is my first fic, please be nice. =-S


I don't own any of these characters, unfourtunately, I'd be rich if I did. Do I sound rich to you? I wish I was. Oh well. All rights really belong to Akira Toryama, Bird Studios, and sadly FUNImation Studios (Crappy though they are)  
  
Ok . . . I hope someone reads this and likes it.   
  
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Vegeta found himself walking down an endless street. Everytime he thought he was managing to get somewhere, he found himself turning down a familiar corner. Every turn was the same. As he began to run, the buildings blurred. Suddenly, he realized that on street of buildings looked suspiciously like the sillouettes of his mate, the next street of his dead rival, the next of food and his gravitation machine, and the final one of his son and daughter. He found himself racing past his first two and last one, and lingering on the third. It was easier to be on the third street, he didn't like the other three. For some reason they pissed him off, and though he kept Ki-blasting the buildiongs, they wouldn't be destroyed. Why was he on this square, he wondered, what had he done to deserve this torment. Somehow he felt that he had made a wrong decision somewhere, a wrong turn. Suddenly, he felt helplessly lost and confused. How could he get back to where he was supposed to be? He felt like if only he could will himself to turn, away from this woman and their children, turn away from his old rival, and turn to the next square that touched the food and training, then maybe he could be happy. Maybe he could sort this out. He didn't know . . .   
  
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As the sun rose Vegeta awoke. His peculiar dream still weighing heavily on his mind. As an excersize That Woman insisted upon, he wrote it all down, while the dream was still fresh in his mind. That Woman made him write a lot of things, pure foolishness in his mind. Some things would be best forgotten, and he didn't forget anything besides. Quietly, he forced himself to kiss That Woman, and wonder what to do as she stirred slightly, a smile rising upon her lips. She opened her eyes blearily and rolled over to face him, "Mornin' baby," She murmured and kissed him on the lips, rolling over again and falling back asleep.   
  
"Morning," He grunted, getting out of bed, taking his notepad of dreams to the bathroom to read in better lighting. According to his notebook, he'd been having these sort of dreams alot lately. Maybe it meant something. Maybe it didn't. Ever since two months ago, he'd been struggling with his emotions toward This Woman and her - their she insisted calling them - offspring. For some reason, he dreaded touching her, and dreaded facing the children, even Bra. Of course it made sense that he wouldn't want to face Bra, half the reason he had cared about her so much was because of how much she reminded him of That Woman. And now he wished he had never laid eyes on her, never wanted her, never made the mistake of allowing her to trap him like this, on her terms. To have little brats who grew up to be big brats, because of one night's fun, and having to stay for life. And everytime he came alive again she had ensnaired him once more. Weaving her invisable webs that he only just recently learned exactly how strong they were. Was this how he was going to end his life. Stuck in this miserable place? Had he any hope of escape, and content? Why did he feel this way? Every morning waking up only to dread his usual routine, the only highlights being going out in the wilderness to train once a day where he could have a few hours to meditate and concentrate on his body and push out all thought of That Woman? Scribbling furiously on the notepad, he wrote with more and more vivid descriptions all of his dreams, remembering everything about this. Yet when the memories ran out, he didn't feel like he was finished, just as he began to scribble what had happened the day before and after each day, there was a knock on the door.   
  
"Vegeta, honey?" The Woman asked. "Are you ok in there? You've been in the bathroom for a while now."  
  
"I'm fine," He growled. Realizing his mistake, he coughed and said more clearly, "I'm fine, woman."  
  
"Vegeta, what's wrong with you, you haven't called me 'woman' in years. Is something the matter?" Bulma asked, sounding worried.  
  
"No!" Vegeta snapped.  
  
"I know something's worng, but you don't need to take it out on me. It isn't my fault!" The Woman shouted at the door.  
  
'Yes it is,' Vegeta thought, but just said nothing. He heard her stomp off downstairs. And rolled his eyes. What did he care if he hurt her feelings? It was her fault he had. Opening the door to their room, he looked about stealthily, making sure the coast was really clear. He went in and got changed into his training gear. Then, he inched himself downstairs, small step by small step, knowing that he couldn't avoid the inevitable. When he got down there, he saw that his breakfast was on the table, and his family sitting around it, with their food there too, all three waiting for Vegeta to take his place at the head of the table to begin. "Morning," He grunted. Trunks looked surprised.  
  
"Are you ok dad?" He asked. He hadn't seen his father act this way for years.  
  
"What's wrong Daddy?" Bra asked sweetly.  
  
"Yeah Vegeta, I'd like to know too." Bulma said angrily, "Maybe if you gave us a clue we could help you, for once."  
  
"Nothing's worng," Vegeta said icily, starting to eat. "Can I not greet my own damn family how I want to?"  
  
Bulma rolled her eyes, "Sure honey, what ever you wish dear," She said sarcasticaly. Trunks remained silent, and Bra's eyes watered, though she kept quiet too.  
  
Vegeta just ignored them all and didn't speak until breakfast was over. "Going to train." He grunted, the first one to leave the table. He left the kitchen and went down the hall to the front door, not bothering to open it, he blasted it down. Speeding, he flew to his abandoned crater of woods.   
  
It had once been poulated by a few people. He smirked, they moved out after he destroyed their homes right in front of their eyes when he once was in a bad mood three years ago. Losing himself in deep meditation and fighting moves in air, he once more buried his emotions and thoughts. He fought himself through the whole day, not resting until a few hours after dusk. No one had come for him. "Just as well," He thought.   
  
Allowing himself to float downward to the soft grass, he began to think. This training had reminded him of old times, when he fought to become the greatest. Now he fought to run away. Did this make him a coward, he wondered. Had his life sunken so low that he had actually sank to the level of cowardice. In a sudden burst of fury he slammed his fist on the ground, creating an earthquake for miles around and his fist itself going down several feet. How could this had happened? Where had he made his mistake? He didn't know, and this lack of knowledge is what was killing him the most. Maybe there was a way to get away from it all. Maybe he could leave and never come back. No, he didn't have a spaceship.   
  
But then the idea occured to him. Why would he need a spaceship. He had an entire planet to hide on. Hide? He scowled. He really was disgusted in himself. Had the great Vegeta, Prince of the Sayains, actually consider hiding? Quickly, he flew home, giving up this idea. It was shameful enough to feel this way, but to have the idea of running and hiding made him want to retch. He slowed as he neared Capsule Corp. Once more having to gather up all his strength and will to enter the home he so desperately loathed.  
  
When he arrived he went to the kitchen to find the woman crying. When she looked up at him, she did not smile. "Vegeta, I want you to talk to somebody." She said, her lower lip trembling. "And since you won't talk to me, I want you to call a hotline I use sometimes."  
  
Vegeta tilted his head to the side, this was new, "And what makes you think I need to talk?" He asked coldly.  
  
"Because of the way you're acting! You're turning back into the monster you were when we first met!" Bulma said, her eyes watering with fresh tears.  
  
"Tell me woman," Vegeta said the same cold, demanding voice that seemed to have a taunting edge, "What ever made you think I changed?" Bulma started to say something but he interupted her, "And what made you mate me if I was such a . . . 'monster' did you call me?"   
  
"I saw what was really in you!" Bulma cried, "And rarely did it come out, and now, after a few years of the real you showing you're turning back into that asshole again! I can't stand it Vegeta! What's happening to you?"  
  
"You thought that was the real me?" Vegeta growled, "The real me is that monster that I was! My life is fighting woman! These last few years have just been this way out of shock! And don't you even try to lie to yourself that I'm better than this!"  
  
Bulma burst into uncontrollable sobs and ran out of the room, flinging a piece of paper at Vegeta. He listened to her footsteps as she ran upstairs. He heard her open their bedroom door and slam it shut without entering, instead she went to a guest bedroom. Growling to himself, he picked up the phone and dialed the number on the paper. "Hello?" A young female voice answered.  
  
"I was told to call here." Vegeta growled into the phone.  
  
"Do you know why?" The girl asked.  
  
"Because my wife is a baka and thinks I need to talk to someone." Vegeta said.  
  
"Well, what's the problem?" The girl asked.  
  
"I have no problem." Vegeta snapped.  
  
"You aren't a phone person are you?" The girl asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Maybe we could meet somewhere and talk."  
  
"Fine." Vegeta said, slamming down the phone and breaking it. Cursing under his breath, he called the number back. "Where?"  
  
This time the girl laughed, "How about somewhere outside, it's a nice night out."  
  
"Where are you?" Vegeta asked.  
  
"At my office, 23 Street Ginger Elm." The girl told him. Once more Vegeta slammed the phone down on the reciever and broke his second phone. He stormed out of Capsule Corp. and headed to the girl's office. When he arrived at 23 Street Ginger Elm he saw a girl standing on a balcony, looking down at the road, looking for a car he guessed.  
  
"I'm right here," He growled right above her, on the roof.  
  
"Nice," The girl comented, as if the fact that he could fly was no big deal."Sit down," She suggested, "Let's get to know eachother." Vegeta sat down obediantly. "What's your name?" The girl asked.  
  
"Vegeta." Vegeta muttered.  
  
"Tell me about yourself." The girl suggested.  
  
Vegeta grimaced, "I came to this planet to kill everyone alive and use the dragonballs to gain immortality. I was defeated and then went to Namek, not coming back here until I was wished back alive after Frieza killed me . . ." He carried on, telling the girl all sorts of fragments of details, sometimes talking of Earth, sometimes of other planets. But never did he mention how he felt about anything. He said and described everything unemotionally until he finished.  
  
"You haven't mentioned your wife." The girl said gently once he told her grudgingly his life story.  
  
"That's because I don't want to." Vegeta snapped.  
  
"Tender subject?" The girl asked, "Not too good of an area for you?"  
  
"She is most of the reason I hate this place." Vegeta growled.  
  
"Well . . . I guess this means you don't wish to talk anymore?" The girl asked.  
  
"Yes." Vegeta said.  
  
The girl studied his cold, impassive face. After a few quiet minutes passed by she finally said. "My name is Chris." Vegeta said nothing. "I have to get home. Good night." She said, turning to walk inside. Vegeta hid the flicker of surprise that glinted in his eyes. That was it? Nothing else? Once she reached the slidfing door she turned around and added, as though it were an afterthought, "Call me if you ever need to vent." She went inside and a few minutes later he saw her exit from the main entrance of the building to a car.   
  
Deciding quickly, he followed her car to her apartment building, landing on her roof. She was different, he decided, from the girls he was used to. It aroused his interest. He watched as she entered the apartment building. Then he flew off to Capsule Corp.  
  
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Bulma found herself oncemore in tears when she heard what was definately Vegeta's footsteps pass by her door and go to a different guest room, his old one. How was it that Vegeta had changed again? Was her love not enough to keep him happy anymore? She doubted sleep would come as the hours slipped by. As the sky grew gray her tears stopped trickling, she breathed in a deep, steadying breath. This was it. She knew it. Vegeta wasn't hers anymore.  
  
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Trunks was up longer than either of his parents, and thought harder about them. He didn't try to fool himself. He knew his father, he knew that when he was a child there had always seemed to be at least an undercurrent of love between them. The vibes had always been there. Today, they had been absent. They'd been absent for a long time, he realized then, and he wondered if they would be back.  
  
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Only Bra sleept well that night, oblivious to the pain everyone else was feeling. Unknowing of the hurt she would soon experiance. Not understanding that this was the last good night of sleep she would have for a while to come.  
  
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When he arrived on his bedroom balcony he noticed that the bedroom was empty. A slight twinge of guilt hit him suddenly. It wasn't really the woman's fult, he thought, it was something about him. Yet he too left the room. He realized that the feelings he had once held for that woman were dead. All that was left to show for it was years gone by and two children. He went to his old room and slept there that night. Exhausted from all those years he had spent, and slightly hurt at the thought that it was most likely his fault that their relationship had come to this.  
  
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Ok, it's not a very good beginning, but I'm hoping it will turn out to be a good story. R&R please. This is my first story. 


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